Show welcomes theatre-goers to the Sixties in style
Here’s something I know for sure – Monday blues don’t exist in Baltimore.
We were welcomed to the city, temporarily set up at Newcastle’s Theatre Royal, by Tracy Turnblad, the lovable underdog and heroine of our story – Hairspray.
Flash back to 1960’s America and here we are. An era where integration was, as Tracy informs us, the new frontier – and not everyone was sold on the idea.
In the audience we face this new world together along with Tracy, best friend Penny, supportive parents Edna and Wilbur and the cast of the Corny Collins show.
“The nicest kids in town” and stars of the show include Amber Von Tussle (Gemma Lawson), the girl we love to hate, and heartthrob Link Larkin (Dan Partridge), the only boy Tracy has eyes for.
From the off, Hairspray is a fastpaced selection of catchy songs, polished dance routines and every sort of character you could wish for – the comic relief, the love interest and the villain.
I’ll start with the former, because they’re my favourite every time.
Tracy, played brilliantly by Rosie O’Hare, may be our star and the show’s saviour, but my jewels in the crown of this production go to her support network.
A certain type of laugh is reserved for Penny Pingleton gags and that’s because there’s a little bit of her in all of us.
The supportive best friend, the doting daughter and (finally) the girl who finds exactly what she’s been looking for in Seaweed (Shak Gabidon-Williams).
Played fantastically and hilariously by Annalise Liard-Bailey, Penny made me giggle, cry, sigh and cheer all at once.
Forget Link and Tracy, it’s now time to talk about the real romance of this piece – the love between Mr and Mrs Turnblad.
Their humour, chemistry and affection is reminiscent of every happy couple you’ve ever met and then some.
The chemistry between actors Matt Rixon (Edna) and Graham Macduff (Wilbur) is obviously just as strong.
When an on-stage gag went a little bit off-kilter, the pair seamlessly continued with the scene, laughing along and adlibbing as, let’s face it, only a married couple can.